


Demolition (Wo)Man

by foxface13



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 80s references, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, I got this idea watching Demolition Man, Serial Killers, Slight Canon Divergence, Violence, im sorry, rated M for Anderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxface13/pseuds/foxface13
Summary: Turns out the future is a lot like an old sci-fi movie. After a near-death experience lands her in suspended animation, Detective Sydney Vasquez finds herself waking up to a world run by technology. Her best friend is an android, her new partner is an ass, and there’s a cute fellow cop living next door. What could go wrong?Everything, probably.(this has been completely re-written)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely re-wrote this story because I was genuinely unhappy with it. Hopefully it's better now?

Everything was too bright, too loud. Every beep of the heart monitor made her teeth ache. Each footstep as someone passed in the hallway felt like it was pulsing inside her own head. Her limbs were heavy, her mouth dry. In short, Sydney Vasquez was miserable.

“Good morning, Detective.” A chipper voice accompanied the opening of a door, and was followed by intense red flooding her closed eyelids.

Sydney groaned loudly, attempting to cover her face, but her arms wouldn’t respond. With great effort, her eyes cracked open, and she was greeted with a blinding light. Her voice came out in pathetic squeaks when she attempted speech. After several tries, she mustered a broken “Where?”

A nurse adjusted the hospital bed into a sitting position and a straw bumped against Sydney’s lips. “Water, sweetie. I’m Rachel, your nurse for the day. You’re in the Henry Ford Hospital.”

“Wha hap’n?”

“You’re in recovery from surgery. You were in quite the state.” The nurse was beginning to come into focus. Sydney could make out blond hair and a blue uniform. “Take a minute to get your bearings. I’ll send the doctor in to explain.”

The nurse left, too-loud footfalls fading down the hallway outside, leaving Sydney to boggle over what little information she received. Surgery? Why did she need surgery? The left side of her body hurt, from her head to her hip. Her eyelids felt like weights, but each slow blink brought her world into focus. Her room was featureless, save for some avant-garde painting on the wall.

It was still too bright to look out the window, and she couldn’t see anything in the hallway. Her hands finally started taking orders, twitching at the finger. She could wiggle her toes by the time the doctor arrived.

“Glad to have you with us, Detective.” His name tag read Sullivan, and nurse Rachel stood by with… some sort of square sheet of plastic? “Can you tell me what you remember?”

“’Member a firefight.” Sydney cleared her throat, squinting at the nurse while she tapped at the plastic thing. “Car blew up.”

“Yes, you were seriously injured. But not to worry. You’ve received top of the line care. You might feel a little stiff at first. Do you remember anything after the incident?”

“No.” Not true. She remembered pain. Asphalt under her cheek. Watching her partner bleed out. It wasn’t something to share.

“What about before?” The doctor pressed on. “Any gaps in your memory? How about just before surgery?” He acknowledged the shake of her head, and the nurse continued tapping at the plastic thing. “Alright, then we’ll continue. As I mentioned, you sustained considerable injury. We’ve fitted you with state of the art prosthesis, as per your medical agreement. Do you remember signing the agreement?”

Sydney cleared her throat, brow furrowing as she tried to recall the information. She remembered a skinny undergrad with a clipboard. “Something about experimental… something. Signed a waver.”

“Experimental procedures under the facility’s discretion, yes. This includes the prosthetics that I mentioned. Would you like to go over them now?” Dr. Sullivan received a nod. “Very well. Now, you are likely experiencing sensations of heaviness in the limbs. You received extensive neurological augmentation to assist with recovery and acclamation of your new arm.”

She sputtered, “New arm?”

“There’s no __easy__  way to say it, Detective. You lost your left arm during the incident.” The doctor placed a hand on her left arm. “This is a brand new prosthetic replacement, a bit experimental, but completely safe, I assure you.”

Sydney could feel the doctor touching her arm, plain as day. The arm didn’t __feel__  fake, but it certainly didn’t __look__  right. She was missing a trail of freckles under her elbow. Her heart rate thrummed, causing the monitor to beep.

“Now, I know, it’s a lot to take it. Bones had to be repaired along this side, including the left ilium, several ribs, your clavicle, and scapula. Your skull was also damaged around your eye, reaching as far back as the temporal bone. Your left eye was severely, and as a result, has also been replaced. It’s why you might have trouble adjusting your vision.”

She watched him tap each area on his own body as he spoke, her expression blank with shock. “You… wha…. how…..” Her voice broke as coughs wracked her frame, and suddenly she could __feel__ and _ _move__ , sitting up to clutch at her chest with her left hand, the prosthetic hand. Nerves lit up, causing pain and sensation to rush through her all at once. She could feel the heat of her own skin through the prosthetic hand, and despite coughing, she gaped at it, dumbstruck.

The nurse stepped forward, offering the cup of water from before, and Sydney drank it gratefully. As her coughs subside, she found herself staring with pure bewilderment at the hand clutching her cup. It didn’t __look__  like it was supposed to, but it __felt__  normal. There was something uncanny valley about it, though, as she flexed her fingers and rotated her wrist. Something just a bit off, as if it were too perfect.

“Now, there are several, shall we say… __features__  with these prosthetics.” The doctor continued once he ensured that Sydney was calm again. He dutifully ignored the side eye she sent his way. “You will be undergoing physical therapy and recovery courses to acclimate you to these changes.” Doctor Sullivan took a deep breath, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “There’s one final thing. You’ve probably already guessed it, but these enhancements are all a bit beyond previous medical practices.”

Sydney scowled at the doctor. A bit? Replacing entire body parts with something that even __functioned__  was far beyond anything out of real life. She felt like something out of a science fiction movie. There was this niggling thought at the back of her mind, like something she’d forgotten attempting to bring itself back into the light. She tried to push it aside when she realized the doctor was still talking.

“-part of the experimental aspect of your treatment. We have it in our records that you did consent to the procedure, although I would understand if you don’t remember much. The emergency room staff was likely doing their best to keep you alive as is.”

“Sorry, what?” She interrupted his rambling, a sinking feeling taking hold of her stomach.

“The suspended animation? You’ve been asleep for, oh…” Sullivan looked at his watch, and then compared it to the plastic pad the nurse handed to him. “Yes, about fifty years.”

Sydney blanched. She sputtered, the beep of the heart monitor accelerating at an alarming rate. “Wha…. what…..” The nurse appeared to be moving towards her in slow motion. Doctor Sullivan was standing up, mouth moving, but she couldn’t hear anything he said. The grip of her left hand on the railing of her bed tightened, and she felt the cracking of plastic just as her vision went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Two months of physical therapy practically flew by, and Sydney still felt out of place. While she hadn’t been let out of the hospital yet, the nurses and her therapist had been more than happy to fill her in on anything and everything doing on in the world now. So far, the biggest challenge she faced came in the form of James, her adorable physical therapist, who also happened to be an android.

James, and those like him, received their freedom just before Sydney woke up. The peaceful revolution took place right here in Detroit, and now the city was primarily inhabited by androids and android supporters. Sydney had even been given the option to transfer, which she summarily refused. Everything else felt like something out of a science fiction movie, so she figured why not go all the way and live with androids? A decision she didn’t regret, especially once she’d befriended the bubbly blond therapist.

“I guess this is our last day together, huh?” Said android was currently making Sydney hate being a mere human, as he followed along with her yoga routine. He made it look so easy! Meanwhile, Sydney was still feeling stiff as she stretched out across her mat.

“Last day of this torture, sure.” She grumbled, trying in vain to relax into Thread the Needle. While most of her shoulder had been replaced, the surrounding muscle and scar tissue still needed some time yet to mend. It made for less flexibility along her left side, like trying to stretch rubber. She gave up and sank into Child’s Pose, turning her head to smile at the android beside her. “I’d like to keep in touch, though. You’re kind of my only friend.”

The blond laughed. “I’d like that. You’re kind of my only friend, too.”

“Only because you’re a workaholic. If you took a break once in a while, you’d have plenty of friends! Like that cute nurse technician you’re always making eyes at.” Sydney waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Wha-! I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” James sputtered, his cheeks blushing cerulean. Sydney continued to grin mischievously at him even as she returned to her yoga poses, chuckling at his flustered reaction.

She was quite fond of the young man. Young android? She would have grandchildren his age, if things had been different. Well, the age he looked. Technically, many of the newer androids were only a year or less, as she understood it. She didn’t feel it was polite to ask.

“Maybe you should help me pick out a place. I’m supposed to see a caseworker today about housing, finances, blah, blah…” She sighed. “I have no idea what to even look for in a house these days.”

James blinked, looking awestruck. “You want me to help you with house hunting?”

“Well, sure. Only friend, remember?” She chuckled. His expression immediately drooped into a pout.

“That makes me feel far less special…” His pout vanished when Sydney leaned over and ‘booped’ his nose. “Hey, no. Stop that!” He swatted her hand away as she attempted to poke him a second time. “Get back to stretching! Your session isn’t over!”

* * *

House hunting was __tedious__. If not for the bubbly golden retriever in man form beside her, Sydney would have given up days ago. Apartments had been off the list immediately, since none were move-in ready. She __wanted__  something in what they now called the “Historic” districts, since the homes and buildings in such areas contained less technological upgrades. She wasn’t really confident in that department yet.

It only took about a week to actually find a place, but it felt like the longest week of her life. Now Sydney finally sat in her own yard, waiting for delivery trucks full of furnishings. She was perched on a cooler, taking slow, deep inhales on a cigarette that James was not happy about.

“You finally get out of the hospital, and that’s what you do?” He sat in a lawn chair beside her, looking at her with motherly disappointment.

She blew a delicate cloud of smoke into the air, smiling lazily. “Hey, I waited 50 years for this. Besides, I’ve got a new lung to break in.” She winked at him, chuckling at the grumpy huff he let out in return. “It’ll just be this one, promise.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut when she handed him the pack. With a shake of his head, he pocketed it. “In that case, smoke away.” She let out another breathy chuckle, smoke curling out around her teeth and from her nose. “And maybe quit doing that. You look creepy.”

Her chuckle turned into an actual laugh, and then a cough as she choked on smoke. “Sweet talker.” She wheezed.

Two large delivery trucks pulled up about this time, one pulling into her driveway and the other parking in front of the yard along the street. Dropping the cigarette, she snuffed it out with her boot and approached the man who stepped out of the first truck. After speaking to both delivery drivers and their partners, furniture was placed around her house. Everything was quite basic, Sydney having only bought the essentials, such as a bed and couch.

As she stood outside to see the delivery trucks off, she caught first sight of her next-door neighbors. A young man had stepped out with a massive Saint Bernard on a leash. He hesitated at the sight of the trucks, letting them pull away before beginning his walk. Sydney smiled when he looked her way. He returned the gesture, but she could see curiosity glimmer in his eyes. Her hand shot up to her hair, adjusting her fringe over the left side of her face self-consciously.

“Still bothers you, huh?” James joined her on the porch, smiling and waving at her neighbor before the man and dog started off down the street.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Sydney lowered her hand, stuffing it into her pocket with a sigh. “It’s the first thing people see when they look at me. Hard not to be a little bothered, I guess.”

“I don’t know. It’s a neat scar.” He turned to her with that beaming smile. “Besides, it’s not the first thing people notice.”

He turned to go back into the house, and Sydney followed him. “Oh yeah? What did you see first, then?”

“That hair. Shaved side with a big white streak? You look like a punk!”

“Hey, you kids don’t even know what punks __are__  these days!”


	3. Chapter 3

During week one of owning a home, James convinced Sydney to purchase a cell phone, an object that baffled her. Mobile phones were hefty bricks that you could use to kill a man when she saw them last. This little rectangle in her hand could apparently make calls, send text based messages, access a crazy thing called “the internet,” and many other functions that she still hadn’t grasped yet.

Week two had James working a lot overtime, and Sydney was left to her own devices. This resulted in her rearranging the living room furniture and learning that her left arm, the prototype prosthetic, was capable of lifting far more than her normal arm. She could easily lift the couch and move it around like a toy, although the shape made it a bit unwieldy. When she called to report this to Dr. Sullivan, he was elated. The latter half of the week was spent doing stress tests on the arm.

By week three, James finally moved into the spare bedroom. He was practically living with Sydney by this point anyway, and she had pointed out several times that rent was too high for his tiny apartment. He was amused that she would go so far as to calculate average monthly living costs just to have her best friend move in.

Week four, after one month of acclimating to life in 2039, Sydney couldn’t stand being at home anymore. Getting into the workforce wasn’t easy, given her unique circumstances. Detroit offered a wide range of jobs for androids and humans alike, but Sydney had only really done one thing with her life. While other girls in her time wanted to be actresses or models, she wanted to be a cop. She fought tooth and nail to achieve the rank of sergeant, and then to become a detective not a year later. She would have been the youngest lieutenant on record, if not for the incident that killed her partner and nearly took her own life.

It took some doing, but eventually Sydney was able to arrange a meeting with Captain Jeffrey Fowler, the man in charge of the DPD’s Central station, and Dr. Sullivan. They met in Sullivan’s office to explain Sydney’s unique situation, the experimental aspect of her prosthesis, and discuss the possibility of her returning to duty. Fowler was a stern man, very no nonsense, but he read through Sydney’s file, and listened to everything Dr. Sullivan had to say before making his decision. He agreed to give Sydney a chance, given her sparkling record, but she would have to play a bit of catch up first, as procedures had changed quite a bit since her time as an officer.

It felt __good__  to have the weight of a badge on her person again. Sure, it hadn’t actually been that long, but work was her life. Long nights with mountains of paperwork was a small price to pay. Before long, she was back in action, ready for her first day. Sydney stepped into Captain Fowler’s office with a spring in her step, perky demeanor a complete contrast to the verbal battle going on inside.

“Like __hell__  I need a partner!” The man across from Fowler sneered, “Especially some fucking popsicle someone forgot in the freezer!”

“And I didn’t ask for your opinion, Reed.” Fowler snapped, not even bothering to look up from his terminal. “Vasquez, front and center.”

Sydney approached the captain’s desk, winking at the man named Reed when he leveled his scowl on her. “Detective Popsicle, reporting for duty.” She grinned at the irritated side-eye Fowler cast her way.

“Cut the bullshit. Reed, this is Sergeant Sydney Vasquez. Vasquez,this is Lieutenant Gavin Reed. He’ll be your partner during this trial period. Talk to him if you have any questions. Now get the hell out of my office.” Fowler waved dismissively at the both of them.

Reed opened his mouth to protest, snapping it shut with an audible clacking of teeth when the captain glared at him. “Fucking __bullshit__ …” he growled, shoving past Sydney and stomping out of the room. Sydney caught the door with her foot before it could slam shut, letting it close gently behind her.

She watched Reed storm away into the break room, breathing a sigh through her nose. It was just her luck to end up with Detective Bad Attitude. As the lieutenant angrily made himself a cup of coffee, Sydney decided to leave him be and have a look around. In a weird way, the room felt familiar. Desks arranged in the middle of the room. Cops filing paperwork and researching cases. The difference showed primarily in the sterility of the furnishings. Everything was glass and stainless steel.

Movement drew her attention, and Sydney found herself staring into the curious brown eyes of her neighbor, the cute young man with the dog. His housemate -father, perhaps? Boyfriend?- sat at the desk to her right; he was an older man with chin length gray hair, and Sydney had only caught sight of him when both men left for work in the mornings. With a quick hop down the steps, she approached her neighbors. “Small world, isn’t it?”

“Detective Vasquez. My name is Connor. Congratulations on your reinstatement.” Connor, as it turned out, was even better looking up close. His eyes were warm and inquisitive, taking her in just as quickly as she did to him. His lips were naturally carved up at the corners, giving him a friendly appearance. A few dark freckles decorated his cheeks like beauty marks, drawing the eyes down to his jawline.

“Nice to meet you, Connor. But please, call me Sydney.” She smiled crookedly, turning her attention to the man with long hair. “Nice to finally meet you both.”

“Hank Anderson. Hank’s fine.” While he was much better at schooling his expression, Hank looked just as surprised as Connor to see her there. Sydney was struck by his choice is fashion, as it oddly reminded her of her father. “Fowler stuck you with Reed, huh? Tough break.”

“Yeah, he’s a peach.” Sydney grinned. “Can’t wait to bond, get in some quality time.”

Hank chuckled, visibly relaxing at her use of humor. “Careful what you wish for.” Pointing with his chin, Hank directed her attention behind her.

Turning, she met Reed’s scowl as he stomped her way. “Move your ass, popsicle. We’ve got work.” As soon as he spoke, he changed direction towards the door, not bothering to see if she was following. Sydney could already tell this new partner would be a tough one to crack. With a wave at her neighbor coworkers, she made her way to the parking lot after Reed.


	4. Chapter 4

For someone so quick to talk shit, Gavin Reed was the king of giving the silent treatment. For the past fifteen minutes, he’d said absolutely nothing to Sydney. She elected to remain silent for the car ride, and simply tailed Reed silently through the crime scene. They were greeted by an officer outside of an unassuming house in a quiet neighborhood, and ushered inside.

“You must be that new detective.” The officer smiled at her, avoiding a handshake since he wore rubber gloves. “Chris Miller. Good to have you on board.”

“Sydney Vasquez. Good to meet you.” She returned his smile.

“Cut the bullshit. What do we got?” Reed cut it, still clearly irritated by the situation.

“Right… Neighbors called it in. Vics name is Albert Whitsted. His wife left last year during the android rebellion. Husband stayed, kept to himself, but they still saw him going back and forth to work, taking care of the house, etc.” Sydney silently took note of the house. The entryway and living room were pristine. “A few weeks ago, he gets a girlfriend. They see him more, he’s happy. Then last week he goes missing.”

Miller guided them upstairs, and Reed scoffed. “So the girlfriend bumped him off. Why am I here?”

“Yeah, not exactly.” Miller trailed off, and motioned them into the master bedroom. Albert Whitsted lay back on his bed with a single gunshot through his forehead. A female android lay next to him with a matching bullet wound. They had been arranged on their backs, holding hands with fingers laced. Albert hadn’t been moved far, judging by the splatter.

“Great…” Reed muttered under his breath. “So he got with a plastic toy.” He didn’t hide his disgust at the idea.

Sydney took a pair of rubber gloves from another officer and tugged them on. “No one heard the gunshots.” She stated, examining Albert’s face. “Nice neighborhood, nosey neighbors. What’s so remarkable about this man that he gets executed, silently, and no one hears it?”

“Nothing.” Miller sighed. “Not a damn thing. No criminal history, divorce records show he separated amicably with his wife.”

“He was fuckin’ a doll.” Reed cut in, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

“That’s still uncommon, right?” Sydney asked, moving to the other side of the bed and examining the android. A small ring of blue blood circled the entry wound, but the rest had long evaporated. She could see an odd, iridescent shimmer in the shape of a blood trail down the victims face, like an afterimage. She blinked rapidly; it was hard to focus on.

Reed scoffed. “No shit. So the shooter didn’t like our vic fuckin’ a bot.”

“Sure. The way they’re arranged shows as much.” She stepped back, catching more of that weird shimmering from the along the victim’s arm. She ran gloved fingers along the limb, adjusting it carefully. “But if the killer simply disapproved, why be so careful? Why leave their discovery up to chance?”

No one answered her speculations, although she practically felt Reed’s scrutiny as she continued to look over the android’s arm. She lifted the hand and examined the knuckles, running her gloved thumb over a minuscule disruption in the artificial skin. Sydney found the same little disruptions on the other hand. “She has defensive wounds.”

With a snap of latex, Reed was at her back, reaching over her shoulder to take the victim’s hand from hers. He scowled at it, turning it at different angles in the light. “So it hit the attacker. Get a swab of the knuckles.”

“There’s thirium here. Not hers.” Sydney indicated the speckles she could see between the victim’s knuckles.

“I don’t see shit.” Reed grumbled, leaning closer to inspect the hand.

“Yeah, I don’t… I don’t know.” She rubbed at her left temple, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt a headache coming on. Looking up, she met Reed’s gaze, slate gray orbs studying her quickly. A beat passed, and then he dropped the android’s hand, standing up and tugging the gloves off.

“Whatever. Let’s get lunch.” With that, he stomped away downstairs. Sydney watched him go, sighing deeply.

She stood up and removed her own gloves, pausing next to Miller. “See you back at the office, I guess.” He gave her a sympathetic look, patting her on the back. She chuckled and followed her irritable partner. He was already in the car when she exited the house, and pulled away the moment she closed the passenger door.

She was prepared for another silent car ride when Reed surprised her by speaking up. “You’re not half bad for a human ice cube.”

Sydney scoffed. “Yeah, well, I was a cop twenty years before you were even born.”

“If you’d been a better one, you wouldn’t be here.” He wasn’t expecting her hand to hit the back of his head. “What the fuck!”

“Hey, fuck you! I lost my partner, you jackass!” She hit his shoulder this time, and he he swerved slightly trying to fend her off. She wasn’t hitting him hard enough to hurt, but her frustration was evident. “Don’t think for a __second__  that I won’t kick your ass if you talk like that!”

“OK! Fuck, OK!” He held up a hand to placate her, and she huffed, crossing her arms and looking out the window. “I’m… sorry, or whatever. Shit.” Silence fell over the car again, heavy with agitation. Reed kept shifting in the silence, discomfort obvious, before finally clearing his throat. “Burgers OK?”

Sydney scowled at him, meeting his eyes briefly. “You’re paying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the re-write! Thank you for your time!


End file.
